doodle prince

The middle-aged man sat on the chair opposite him and smiled gently: "I believe he is real."

Chen Feng opened his eyes in surprise.

"I believe in you." The man's expression became serious, "Can you tell me a story about him?"

Chen Feng stared at the man motionlessly.

High-frequency electric shocks, medication and fasting have dulled his brain and made it difficult for him to think.

His brain was like a rusted gear, turning slowly and with difficulty.

He didn't know what the man meant.

I don't know if what this man said is lying to him or the truth.

The man took out an exquisite wooden music box, he twisted the spring at the bottom of the music box, and then placed the music box on the table in front of Chen's cover.

The winged white horse in the middle of the music box slowly rotates on its axis.

Crisp and melodious, no noise sounded from the music box.

The music is quiet and soothing, as if it can free people from the tedious irritability, relax and make people sleepy.

"Tell me about him." The man said softly, "Convince me that he exists."

Chen Feng was silent for a while, and finally spoke, telling the little prince's affairs in detail in the melodious background sound.

At the end of the talk, his eyes were a little too sleepy to open. He tried his best to focus on the spinning white horse in the music box, but the more he concentrated, the more he felt lax.

The man's voice was soft and slow, as if he wanted to deliberately enter his dream.

"Relax." The man whispered, "What did you see?"

Chen Feng looked at the white horse's wings and murmured: "...Little Prince."

"What clothes is the little prince wearing?"

"He wore a white...white linen shirt, and a red double-breasted coat with a thin gold tassel hanging from the shoulder..."

The scene that follows becomes hazy and indistinct.

There is a whistling wind in my ears.

He seemed to be hugged by the little prince, and he stopped at the high altitude of the clouds beside him.

The little prince seemed to be angry with him because he didn't come to the little prince's birthday party on time.

Chen Feng hugged the little prince and apologized to him. His ears touched the soft hair of the little prince. He hugged the little prince tightly, but he couldn't hide all his emotions at this moment.

Almost trembling all over, he told the little prince what he had experienced in the past few days.

He was so tired, sleepy, hungry, and in pain.

The little prince did not speak.

His distressed complaints received no response.

He looked up at Chen Feng with no expression on his face: "Chen Feng, so I was just drawn by you?"

"Am I fake?"

"who are you?"

The question after sentence made Chen Feng's face turn pale.

The little prince's expression became more and more indifferent, and his expression became more and more strange.

"We are not from the same world. I am fictional to you, and you may not be real to me."

"Chen Feng, I don't want to play with you anymore."

The little prince let go.

Chen Feng fell from a height of thousands of miles.

He stared intently into the eyes of the little prince.

Unbelievable, I have a splitting headache.

Threats can't make him leave the little prince, drugs can't make him leave the little prince, and electric shocks can't make him leave the little prince.

But the little prince can.

Chen Feng's spirit was so weak at that time that he didn't realize that all of this was just a hypnotist's trap. He really thought that the little prince had abandoned him.

He lay on the bed with his eyes closed, his breathing became disordered, his heartbeat became weak, as if he wanted to sleep forever and never wake up again.

He thought that the little prince was his wings, his driftwood, his boat, and his shore.

But now he was watching his own wings throw him into the abyss, the driftwood torn apart, the boat not a boat, the shore not a shore.

The 13-year-old Chen Feng closed all his memories about the little prince and became a completely abnormal "normal person".

He becomes a more perfect being than his original self.

More like a robot, of course.

But fortunately, the mother is satisfied.

Chen Feng lived like an elite student, but one day when he was 20 years old, he suddenly felt that life was boring.

He was following his father to familiarize himself with the family business.

Sitting on the luxurious giant ship, watching people push and change glasses, and drink and drink.

The sea breeze blows from the sea.

With a fishy sweet slightly cool breath.

Chen Feng stood on the deck, embracing the sea breeze with open arms.

Then fell straight off the cruise ship.

Chen Feng did not die, he swam ashore, sold all his valuables, and rented a broken room.

He just suddenly got tired of his previous life and wanted to live a different life.

But he sat in the empty, dilapidated house and didn't know what he was going to do.

By coincidence, he picked up the paintbrush.

He seemed to have a talent for it, and soon made enough money drawing cartoons to survive on his own.

But in contrast, the people sent by his father quickly found him.

Chen Feng was not surprised at all.

Even felt that his father's movements were slow.

But his father didn't let him go back. Instead, he sent someone to take all the things he left at home, and someone told him to let him have fun outside for a while before going back.

There is a rare compromise in the attitude of the parents.

Chen Feng understood very well.

After all, there are not many outstanding wealthy children in this world. One second, they greeted people well, but the next moment they suddenly threw themselves into the sea.

...it's almost like a mental illness.

Not to mention father, he himself was a little scared.

Chen Feng never tired of belittling himself at the last moment.

Including tidying up the room, opening the cardboard boxes sent by my father, prying open a box that lost the key, and finding a hand-drawn book at the bottom of the dusty box.

Perhaps it was because of the long time, Chen Feng found that he had no memory of this manga, and after reading it from the beginning to the end, he barely regained a trace of familiarity.

He didn't read carefully.

In addition to the two villain wizards who resembled his parents, the overly beautiful little prince in the whole comic also made him feel a little uncomfortable.

And apart from these characters, the whole comic has almost no ups and downs of the main plot, all are daily journals, and there are some strange settings and inexplicable sentences.

But the cartoon is not finished.

The last page stays on the day before the birthday of the little prince in the painting.

As a very professional newcomer cartoonist, Chen Feng always felt that most of this was inappropriate.

He tore off a post-it note, wrote something similar to an afterword, and pasted it on the last page of paper, to the effect that even if he didn't draw, the characters in the painting would live a good life.

Even if Chen Feng could pick out 100 loopholes and flaws in his previous cartoons at this moment, he could not deny that this cartoon was indeed drawn with great care when he was young.

Because the little prince in this painting is so beautiful.

The beauty of the little prince is ostentatious and cannot be concealed, as if he is standing on the most noble and dazzling stage when he appears on the stage, radiant and unparalleled.

This kind of beauty cannot be concealed by immature painters and rough lines.

Chen Feng has drawn so many cartoons now, but none of the characters can compare with his childhood works.

But that night he had a dream.

In the dream, the little prince knelt on the altar by the lake, begging and praying over and over again.

He suddenly wanted to get closer and see the little prince's eyes clearly.

As soon as this thought came up, Chen Feng found himself in the lake in front of the little prince.

He was so close to the little prince that he could almost see the little prince's distinct eyelashes and the crystal teardrops hanging from the tip of his nose.

The little prince closed his eyes tightly and prayed, may the witches and demons be gone, and may the country be safe and the people safe.

His eyelashes trembled slowly, and his eyes opened, revealing a pair of extremely beautiful red pupils.

Like crystal diamonds, like gems.

Chen Feng felt his heart tremble inexplicably.

He suddenly remembered that when he read the comic for the first time, he always felt a little uncomfortable when he saw the little prince in the comic.

But he still couldn't figure out where the discomfort came from.

Is it because of the little prince's abrupt appearance that he almost wants to break through his top aesthetic appearance, or is it because of other reasons?

When the little prince saw his figure, his breath was stagnant, and his expression was shocked.

The elders next to him seemed to have seen him too. They exclaimed that the God of Light actually existed, and then all bowed down to him.

Chen Fengsheng was pushed to the position of the God of Light, and he suffered so much kneeling for no reason, so he couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

But after thinking about it, this is his work and also his dream, so he can naturally do whatever he wants.

So he asked the prince's wish with a calm face.

The little prince stared at him blankly, and repeated his prayer just now.

Chen Feng said softly that he knew.

Then he went to the witch camp, turned the leader of the witch city into a big tree, and stopped the war.

When Chen Feng woke up the next day, he found it very interesting. He seldom dreamed, and it was still such a lucid dream with clear order, vivid characters and rigorous logic.

He took out the picture album and flipped through it again, unexpectedly looking forward to having this kind of dream again at night.

But not at night.

In fact, Chen Feng was not very disappointed. After all, this is very normal. It is not normal for a person to have a coherent dream for several days in a row.

It's just that Chen Feng met the little prince several times in his dreams intermittently.

He dreamed infrequently and at irregular intervals, sometimes months, sometimes years apart.

Chen Feng found that he was actually very contradictory. He wanted to get close to this little prince, but at the same time he wanted to stay away from him.

Things turned around when he received a text message.

He sold a game adaptation copyright many years ago, but the game party suddenly notified him that all the plots of the main protagonist Ye Tongfang in the game had been deleted.

Under his questioning, Mr. He from Yuanhang Technology finally told him the answer. The NPC in the game developed self-awareness and ran out.

After Chen Feng hung up the phone, he felt a little unbelievable.

He thought it was a prank, but the president's voice didn't seem to be fake at all.

He was lying on the bed at the time, and suddenly thought: If what Mr. He said is true, if the NPC in the game can escape from the game to the real world.

Then the protagonist of the first work who occasionally appeared in his dreams... the little prince, can he also come out of the painting?

It wasn't his latest comic, it wasn't his most accomplished comic, and it wasn't the comic that was most loved by fans. At this moment, he thought of the protagonist of the childhood comics hidden under the box—the Little Prince.

Ever since he had such a thought, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep all night.

He sat on the desk and drew a portrait of the prince, but he didn't want to put it away, so he stuck it on the wall.He stared at the portrait of the little prince on the wall, fell asleep, and met the little prince again after a long absence.

He accompanied the little prince and said something, and then gave the little prince the pen that had accompanied him for many years.

After all, this is a dream that can be manipulated by him, so Chen Feng attached special functions to this ordinary pencil, which can turn the drawn things into reality.

Chen Feng didn't know why he did this, but when he handed the pencil to the little prince, a thought suddenly flashed in his mind.

If only it wasn't a dream.

It would be nice if the little prince could come out.

Then his life might not be so boring.

He hoped that the little prince would come out, talk to him, play with him, and even turn his life upside down.

He just wanted to end his boring, barren, endless desert life.

But since he gave the pen, he never dreamed of the little prince again.

So he started painting.

He drew the childhood picture of the little prince, and also drew the original shape of the little prince - the chubby, chubby, soft little monster with wings.

He didn't put the pictures away, he just posted them all on the wall.

But he drew more and more, one after another, pasted all over the wall.

He seemed to be addicted.

One painting after another.

It seemed like this, the little prince could really come out.

One evening, when Chen Feng went home from shopping, he suddenly found that the house had been tampered with.

He hurried to the study.

Only to find that the entire study room had been turned into a mess.

The childhood picture book that painted the entire Huming world was scattered on the ground.

With resentful creases and scratches.

In the dream, the little prince was standing next to the picture book, his eyes were red, he was holding a long sword, and the sword was pressed against Chen Feng's throat, saying that he wanted to take revenge on him, that he would make his life worse than death.

The shopping bag in Chen Feng's hand fell to the ground.

Mushrooms and green peppers rolled to the ground.

He raised his hands, his face was calm, but his lowered eyebrows were stained with a smile.

"Can I write a suicide note?"